The Temporary State of Being Not Fine
by Fail with Eloquence
Summary: She falls back and he gazes at her and he is so full of love that he doesn't even feel like he's regenerating. He just feels warm. 11/Clara.


**Spoilers:** The upcoming Christmas special, although this is purely speculative. Some for the Name of the Doctor.

**Disclaimer:** Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and Steven Moffat.

**A/N:** Just a quicky! Matt Smith is by far my favourite Doctor, and although I'm pretty bummed over the news, I'm really just glad that we got him at all. Thanks, man!

* * *

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine." The words just spill out of her mouth in a one continuous, jumbled mess. She's pulling him along, and though he's upright, she can tell by the colour of his face and the way he's grasping onto his left shoulder and the stinging behind her eyes and the hysteria building up in her chest that things are certainly _not fine_.

But they will be.

They approach the TARDIS and she's preparing to boot down the door when it swings open for them without question. She all but pushes the Doctor across the bridge to the controls, where she holds him upright against the centre panel and starts working on the buttons of his vest and shirt. She rips off his bowtie and throws it who-knows-where and he has just enough energy left to make a feeble complaint about it, which makes her smile.

And then it doesn't, because she knows that he probably won't care too much for bowties anymore.

"You'll be okay," she says, although they both know what's coming and she wonders if she says it for her own benefit rather than his. His skin is burning hot when she pushes his shirt back to take a look at his shoulder, and because he's recently taken to wearing the most lovely shades of red and maroon, she didn't quite realize, until now, just the extent of his injury.

It was some sort of miniature hypersonic space cannonball, or something. She hadn't been listening: the thing had come out of nowhere, barreling through the air so fast that she hadn't even seen it, but when it flew past her, it had left her ears ringing and her head so light that she'd begun to see stars. And he'd been right in it's path, hit with such a force that really, it was a miracle he'd still been able to breathe, let alone stand back up and try to tell her what the hell just happened and to get back to the TARDIS.

So, she's more than a little surprised to find that behind his clothes is nothing short of a mass of carnage. The force of impact had severely dislocated his shoulder, pushed it so far back from his chest that his skin tore, and beneath it she can see layers of ripped muscle, damaged arteries, and severed nerves. His shoulder bone is completely shattered, with shards of white poking up through mangled, bloody skin, and there's a sort of radiation burn extending across the rest of his chest and up his neck.

She stares at it for a moment and despite the fact that she's clenching her jaw with all that she has, a sound of sheer desperation and horror forces it's way up through her throat and out into the space between them anyway. Immediately, despite his own agony, he seeks to comfort her, and he drops the hand still clutching his shoulder and moves it up to cradle her face. In turn, her hand moves to his shoulder automatically and she leans into his.

She closes her eyes, but she refuses to cry. Later, definitely. But not now. She's always been strong in the face of death and she will not stop now and she _has_ to keep reminding herself that this isn't death, and he isn't dying. She knows from past experience (if you could call it such) that what she's about to witness is one of the most beautiful things in the universe, and she's_ so_ determined not to cry.

She apologizes to him instead, because of all the times that she's been able to throw herself in front of him, or push him out of harm's way, she's failed to do it now. And she can't help but think that it's never been so important.

"Oh, Clara," he says, and his voice is weaker than usual, but he grins at her anyway. "Don't apologize. You've saved me infinitely.." he ends in a whisper and his eyes drop so slightly to her mouth. He does this a lot, but this time, she swears that he tugs at her face just a little bit, or maybe he doesn't, but she closes what's left of the gap between them and they kiss, briefly. Their mouths collide and his teeth tug on her lower lip for a second, and then it's done. She falls back and he gazes at her and he is so full of love that he doesn't even feel like he's regenerating. He just feels _warm_. "You're so pretty, Clara Oswald," he says, running his bloodied thumb over her cheek.

She beams back at him, and who knows how long they stop there, staring at each other. The universe could be imploding, and in her head, it is. But that's a constant with him and she's used to this now, and it doesn't matter. They stand together for seconds, minutes, an eternity, and it doesn't matter.

Clara's just thinking that she'd really like to kiss him again when the first wave of regeneration energy hits.

It's like an electric current. He lurches forward and lets out of sharp gasp of pain and then he's off. "Clara! You have to get back!" His voice is much louder this time, and his hand is no longer on her face because it's trying to shove her away from him. He's going on and on about the energy and how he can't let her get caught up in it because she'll most certainly die (again) and if that happens he doesn't really know what he'll do and for god's sake Clara, _you have to get back._

She knows that it's fatal. Of course she knows. She's been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. She's seen it all and she knows what happens and she knows that in essence, this a good thing. A brilliant thing, and she should be so lucky that it's happening at all. And yet, she just.. doesn't want him to go yet.

But his skin is beginning to light up and there are wisps of energy coming up from the backs of his hands and he is near hysterical because it's starting, he doesn't have enough energy left to hold it back, and she still isn't moving. She's just staring at him, and he's mid-sentence when she suddenly takes his face into her hands, gets on the tips of her toes, and kisses him again.

In that second, he's torn between crushing her into him and pushing her as far away from him as he possibly can, so he flails momentarily before he settles for grasping a handful of her hair. She knows that it has to be quick, but she kisses him as deeply and as gently as she can, gliding her lips over his and flicking at his tongue. Her skin is scorching wherever it's touching his, but it's not unpleasant. She's not sure if it's the regeneration energy or if it's just him, but she can see nebulae on her eyelids and she feels like a newborn star, and it is the farthest thing from unpleasant.

And though it was certainly longer than their first, it's over far too quickly and she's literally reeling back away from him until she's backed up against the door. They never break eye contact though, and all she can think of.. is that she hopes this makes him feel like a newborn star as well.

The energy is literally rolling off of him, and he's seconds away now. He smiles, she smiles, and then he's lost in a burst of orange and yellow.

She isn't sure if her eyes are watering because the light is so bright or because she's crying after all, but she thinks he's beautiful all the same, and she knows that eventually, things'll be just fine.

_fin._


End file.
